Of Plants and Romancing
by Lady Akita
Summary: Severus Snape is recieving gifts and he wants to know why.


Title: Of Plants & Romancing  
Author: Lady Akita  
Rating: PG-13/R  
Pairing: Snape/m/m (to say more would spoil things. )  
Notes: Not the best thing I've ever written, but it was collecting dust on my hard drive and I still like it. Enjoy!

Of Plants & Romancing

The first plant turned up on the Monday after Halloween. It was right after the Seventh Years' Advanced Potion class, and as the House Elves knew better than to enter his workrooms or his classrooms (they avoided those places not because they feared the aggressive Potions Master, but because their wild brand of magic tended to wreck havoc with the unused ingredients), he knew that the plant had to have come from one of his students. He had had his back turned to his desk in order to check one of the student's potion as the rest of the class filed out, so he had not seen the placing of the plant – he only knew that one moment his desk was decidingly plant-free and the next it was decidingly plant-occupied. The very idea of it made him frown, but given that he was busy teaching seven years worth of students and playing both sides of a rather heart wrenching war, he decided to ignore it. Besides, that particular plant was especially useful (and dreadfully hard to find) in the series of potions he was concocting for the Order.

The second plant appeared about two weeks later, on a Sunday morning, at his seat in the Great Hall. It was rather early in the morning when he arrived, so he was able to narrow down his already short list of suspects (it was rather obvious that Weasley and Granger were not the culprits), but given the nature of the plant (and its rarity) and the fact that he really did not want Minerva or Albus butting their noses into his business (any more than they already were), he simply took the plant and left the Great Hall. He had a brunch sent down to him a few hours later, after he'd harvested all he could from the plant.

The third plant was found masquerading as a get well present a week later. He was recovering from a rather messy mission for Voldemort. Albus was the one to find it and only raised his eyebrow before rearranging the side table so that it was seen more fully. Snape made a mental note to think more on that when he wasn't hopped up on potions, but he forgot all about it (as Albus transferred the scarce continents of the side table to Snape's quarters) until the fourth plant showed up before the following week's Seventh Year Advanced Potion class.

The plant was set directly in front of the pile of papers he was planning on handing back that class and it sat in an elegant black pot, with what looked like three entwining snakes. It wasn't a plant that he recognized, which gave him pause, seeing how he knew a good deal about Herbology due to his status as a Potions Master.

"That's Metacalfe's Ticktrefoil," said Neville who had appeared behind Snape as he studied the plant. "Otherwise known as Desmodium metcalfei or the Rose & Painter. Grows primarily from August to October in the lower west portions of North America. Professor Sprout says that its pretty rare even there."

Snape ran a long finger down a thin, viney stem; he could feel Neville's eyes following his finger. "It is a very rare plant. Suitable for a variety of Calming and Pain-Relief Potions." He looked over his shoulder at Neville, who was no longer the shy, nerve-wrecked young man he'd once been. After spending a week in close quarters with some of Voldemort's more…vicious followers, Neville had lost whatever sense of innocence and naivety that he'd once possessed. He'd come out of the horrifying experience scarred, but not broken; a strong young man who knew first hand what the hell they were all in for and all the more prepared to fight.

Allowing Neville to continue with his potion's training was the returning of a favor to his grandmother, and given the lack of exploded potions over the course of the last three months, Snap wasn't too upset having given up the favor. It pleased him to see the young man excel in his class, though other's would have only seen it as relief.

"I hope it'll be of use, then," Neville returned, face calm, eyes dancing with suppressed humor. He was the only student in the classroom – the others wouldn't start appearing for another ten minutes. The way his eyes were laughing gave Snape a start and there was silence.

"May I inquire as to why you are giving me these plants?" Snape asked a few minutes later, just as his classroom door opened again. "Or shall I continue on in suspense?"

Neville chuckled. "They're thank you's for every time you've saved us. Harry and me, I mean."

Snape watched both men for a moment before nodding Harry, who had just joined them, looked a bit perplexed (which Snape knew was a cover for the sharp mind underneath) until he spotted the plant. Then he gave Snape a shy smile before tugging Neville over to their worktable, just as the rest of the class poured through the door.

No other plants arrived before Christmas Break, for which Snape was very thankful. Minerva had caught wind of his recent acquisitions and was intensely curious as to who had sent them. She bugged him for about a week or so before she lost interest, though he did notice her watching him thoughtfully at every meal he attended, to the point that he began to avoid the Great Hall whenever possible.

He had been told by Albus that the two seventh years had decided to stay on for the break, so he wasn't all that surprised to find the both of them outside of his quarter's on the second evening of the break. He allowed them both in without a word.

If Neville had changed a great deal, Harry had remained virtually the same. Except that Snape now saw through his masks and Harry knew that he did. Both young men had grown strong and Snape _knew_, just by watching them remove their cloaks and shoes, that Voldemort was done for. The suppressed _power_ he could feel lingering under their skins, even at the distance of a room was proof enough. It wasn't…unpleasant to feel hope once more.

Snape offered the two some tea, which both accepted, and they settled in in front of the fire – Snape in his comfortably worn wingback chair, and the two boys, young men, curled together in the opposite chair. They sat in silence for a long period of time; Snape found it very relaxing.

When all three cups of tea had been drunk and sent back to the kitchens, Snape found himself watching his two young students. They were a contrast of dark and light. Harry with his dark hair and tanned muscular skin next to Neville's much paler skin and hair. He had a slight chubbiness that Snape found comforting – like even the War and danger and battles and painful experiences couldn't stop the sense of youth and boyishness; that there was still that to rely on. Together they curled up like a pair of sated, sleepy kittens after a full day of play. Snape knew that the two were dating; had laughed at the utter shock displayed by Weasley, Granger and the rest of the Wizarding World when the two had refused to deny it.

He found that comforting, too.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Neville asked, gently running his hand through Harry's already unruly hair; his other hand was clasped tightly by Harry's.

Snape nodded, not able to think of anything to say that wouldn't be the reflexive cutting and cruel comments and he didn't want that now. Not here, not with them.

Harry smiled at him, happy. "Thank you, Professor. For, everything.

Snape nodded again, tucking his hands into his robes, unable to think of anything to say, still. He turned back to the fire, a small frown on his face.

Harry and Neville watched him watch the fire. Harry was tucked into Neville, head under Neville's chin, free hand tracing patterns on Neville's chest. He was still smiling – he was happy and excited. He didn't get to feel this free very often and he was determined to make the most of it. Even if people thought that he'd become a silly gay poofing school boy with nothing of virtue between his ears. He'd just learned how to deal with the pressures – so what if his way was unconventional, it wasn't like his life had been very conventional. The thought made him giggle.

"May I ask what is so funny, Mr. Potter?" Snape glanced over quickly, no smile, but they could still see a glint of humor in his dark eyes.

Harry giggled again. "You are."

"Harry!" Neville scolded, though his tone was just as playful as Harry's.

Snape couldn't help but chuckle faintly at their antics. Two children who'd never truly had the chance to be children; warriors in the bodies of young men fighting a seemingly endless war and still they find the time to be happy; the time to play. It was ridiculous as much as it was comforting.

"Just what am I to do with the two of you?" Snape sighed, dramatically.

"Love us?"

"Cheeky, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville laughed and winked at Snape, who was smiling back at them. Well, the corner of his mouth was lifted in the vague idea of a smile, but that was still more than they had expected.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were having fun, Professor!" Harry teased. He tilted his head to the side as if thinking of something and then nodded when he came to a conclusion. He gave Neville a quick heated kiss – Snape could see flashed of tongue – before crawling off of his lap. "Be right back."

Neville just smiled and nodded, before winking at Snape when Harry turned away. Harry didn't even notice the movements because he was moving toward Snape – slow and stalking, smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eye.

Snape didn't have time to say a word before Harry was climbing into his lap, straddling his thighs and bracing himself on Snape's shoulders. He gave Snape a big grin as he leaned forward, pausing just above his lips to whisper, "You really can just love us" before kissing him.

Snape's hands, which had moved from his sleeves to the armrests when Harry had first gotten up, clenched at the dark red – almost black – velvet. His mind was racing with, "He's just a student, you dirty old man!" but he shoved the guilty feelings away and sank into the heat and the movement of Harry's lips on his. A corner of his mind was registering that the kid had a _very_ good idea of what he was doing, while the rest of it was involved in devouring the mouth above him. And then that corner of his mind kicked in with the rest of reality (and their responsibilities - _his_ responsibilities), and he pushed Harry, gently, away.

Harry pouted, his face flush, lips swollen and wet, and he tried to dip back in for another kiss, but Snape held him off. "What?" He licked his lips and the slow glide of the moist muscle across those bruised lips was almost enough to make Snape loose it.

"You are my student. I can not take advantage of you. I will not," Snape said firmly, trying not to focus on those lips or the furrowing forehead. "I won't."

"You're not," Neville told him, right next to his left ear. It was soft and he was so close that his breath tickled Snape's ear and sent shivers down his spine. "We understand the difference. We know the difference. We understand it completely. Will you trust us, Professor?"

Snape swallowed thickly. "I…"

"Please, Professor?" Harry asked as well, still pouting, eyes gleaming, still except for shifting his weight further on to Snape's lap.

"Relax," Neville instructed, purring into his ear. "No one is going to hurt you; we won't allow it. So just relax, Professor."

Snape closed his eyes, cock jumping in his pants as Harry settled, feeling Neville's hands working over his shoulders, Harry's hands moving down to caress his chest. He knew he should make them leave, make this end before someone (he) got into trouble (was hurt).

But, when it came down to it, he was still just a man, a fallible man who did trust these two boy-warrior-men to know what they were getting into and he really just wanted _this_, what ever it was, whether it was only for tonight or for longer, and, in the end, he was still just a simple lonely man who wanted to be loved, in whatever way possible.

"Professor?" Harry asked as he leaned forward again, this time finding no resistance. He brushed his lips gently, lovingly, over Snape's forehead and the gesture brought unexpected tears to Snape's eyes. "Professor? Are you alright?"

Snape nodded, roughly, and ran his hands from Harry's shoulders, down his sides to rest on his hips. Harry's button down had pulled away from his trousers and Snape ran his thumbs over the exposed flesh there, reveling in Harry's gasp of pleasure.

"Do you trust us?" Neville asked again, nuzzling under Snape's ear, drawing a gasp from his as well. "Professor?"

"Yes," he answered, voice thick, almost choking on unshed tears. "Merlin help me, yes, I do."

"Thank you," Harry whispered in response, a slow shy smile spreading across his face. Snape thought that it made him look unearthly, like he could rival any Veela in the world. "Thank you!"

"Yes, thank you. It means so much to hear you say it, Professor," Neville whispered, nipping at the exposed ear, earning himself another startled gasp, before running a hand through Snape's hair. "You should know that we trust you, too."

"Very, very much," Harry agreed. He kissed Snape's nose.

Snape felt his heart seize for a moment, then release. Happy. He was happy. And uncontrolled tear ran down his cheek. "I…thank you." He pulled Harry to his chest, hugging him with one arm, bringing his other arm up and back to clutch at Neville as well, feeling baby soft hair slide through his fingers. They all sighed.

"Perhaps," Snape started, a slow easy smile spreading across his lips. "We should move this to a more appropriate location?"

Harry giggled again, his quick breaths tickling Snape's neck.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say Professor Snape is planning on having his wicked way with us, Harry!" Neville teased.

"I sure hope so!" Harry teased right back as Snape growled at Neville. He climbed off of Snape's lap and pulled the Potions Master to his feet where he proceeded to give him another kiss, full of tongue and heat and need. When Harry finally pulled away, Snape found himself being hugged from both sides, nestled comfortably between the two young men. He felt safe and loved. "Are you, Professor?"

Snape ran his hand over Neville's hair thoughtfully, not really noticing what he was actually doing as he thought. "Perhaps it wouldn't be out of place to allow you two to use my given name."

"Severus?" Harry asked quietly, almost as if in awe

"Yes," Snape answered, wanting to keep it all simple.

"Ok, Severus. How about you take us to bed?" Neville asked, boldly, pressing tight against Snape.

Snape laughed, dipping his head down to Neville's. "Yes, I think that can be arranged, you cheeky brat," he answered before kissing him. It was just as sweet and hot as Harry's and he felt himself drowning again.

Two weeks after Christmas Break, a double bouquet was delivered to Snape by owl in the middle of lunch, right when there were the most people in attendance. The bundle was made up of red roses and forget-me-nots, wrapped in a single red, silver, green and gold ribbon. It came with a simple, handwritten note, reading: _We trust you. Do you trust us?_

In the middle of the commotion the delivery was causing, along with the note that Minerva just snatched from his hand, Snape looked over to the Gryffindor table to watch Harry and Neville kiss.

"Severus! Is this Neville Longbottom's handwriting? Severus?" Minerva demanded.

Snape had already tuned her out as he watched his young lovers kiss and break away from each other. Then they looked up at him – Harry smiling shyly and Neville tilting his head to the side in question.

Snape simply smiled and nodded.

The End


End file.
